Gun Training
by Muzica-chan
Summary: Playing with guns isn't all fun and games, but sometimes making it a little more fun helps.  vague  Reid and Morgan fluff


Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea! =D Reid, Morgan, Hotch, and the rest of Criminal Minds belongs to some other, more fortunate soul. If it _was_ mine, you wouldn't be reading this here. ;D

Summary: _Sure, playing with guns isn't supposed to be all fun and games, but sometimes turning a lesson into a game is the best way to teach an unwilling pupil._

Warning: If you haven't finished the first season, there are spoilers. This is obviously implied MxM, though it is 99% Reid just having feelings that he isn't quite used to.

Author's Note: Personally, I can't imagine Reid improving much with Hotch's strict teaching, but if you notice, through the series, his aim does get better. Practice makes perfect, but a little help has never hurt anyone. ;D

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><p>He didn't know why he was there, didn't know why he had been asked to come, didn't know why he actually had gone, and most certainly didn't know what he was going to do now that he was actually there.<p>

Some part of him was vaguely reminded of a reoccurring nightmare, but he quickly dismissed it.

Spencer Reid, the youngest member of his team in the Federal Bureau of Investigations' Behavior Analyzes Unit, stared at the front door of his co-worker, Derek Morgan's, home. Obviously, he was already plagued with trepidation about being there, not to say he hadn't felt it even before coming.

Strangely, he wasn't really sure why. Despite being the kind of guy that had bullied him in high school, Morgan was a really awesome guy. Already the two had made friends. Of course, it was about as unlikely for them not to be friends with their job as it was for them to be friends if it wasn't for the job. They were polar opposites, but the team practically had to live together. It was either hate your co-workers and quit early or learn to love them and settle in for the long haul.

While the two of them sometimes had trouble understanding each other, they had learned to get along very well. They constantly seemed to be getting closer.

Abruptly, he realized that he was still fixated on the door, not inside. Lifting his hand, he went to knock only for the door to swing open. Stand there was six feet one inch of self confidence and good looks. Even though they were the same height, Reid always felt like the dark skinned male dwarfed him.

Before Reid could take a step back, Morgan waved him. Eagerly, he told the other, "Come on! I was beginning to wonder where you were. I have something to show you."

Paranoid but intrigued, Reid followed after the other with only half a second delay.

This had to be one of the first times that the two of them had spoken face to face outside of work. It was the first time for them to hang out with none of their co-workers around. Since Morgan stirred something odd in Reid, it was nearly intimidating and, at the same time, all too interesting to ignore.

Inside of his home, Reid was more interested in Morgan and what he was doing than with their surroundings. Rather than show him around, the older male was standing next to a small table. Drawing closer, he saw that Morgan was loading foam darts into a child's toy.

Turning towards him, Morgan offered him one of the fake guns and a grin that was childish. Studying curiously, Reid accepted the gun and wondered if that was how immature he looked when he was playing with "physics magic."

Still as excited as a puppy with a new toy, Morgan explained, "Each of the darts has a small amount of chalk on them. When they hit us, they leave a mark so we can keep score." When the expression on Reid's face remained confused, he lifted the toy and aimed it at his chest. Squeezing the trigger and striking dead-on spot, he smiled and added, "For target practice."

"Wha-er-Why-Hotch-I don't," Reid stammered quickly, his tone betraying his surprise. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the other was actually trying to help or using this as a way to mock him. He had never imagined Morgan doing that to him, but his childhood had taught him well to be weary.

The smile on the dark face grew as he nodded quickly and replied, "Hotch is a great teacher, one of the best, but sometimes a little fun is what gets the lesson across."

Since the brunette was still hesitation, the older male shook his head with exasperation. Turning away, he held up his hands and told him, "One free shot and then you have to the count of ten to find a tactical position."

"Wha-bu-you have advantage of knowing the layout!" Reid protested squeakily as he scrambled for a better excuse. Morgan, however, had already started the countdown and showed no signs of hearing him. With a final, frantic glance around, he shot at Morgan's black and fled down the hall.

The dart managed to hit the dark skinned male's ear, which caused him to start laughing. Not yet turning, Morgan called after his young friend, "Hey! We're supposed to go for a nonlethal shot, so that is pretty good!"

Attempting to keep a cool head and not get annoyed or, worse, blush, the pale man quickly ducked into the first room he came across. His eyes scanned around once and he nearly did blush as he realized he had managed to barge into his bedroom.

It wasn't embarrassing to be in there, per say, so much as he felt like he was invading the other's privacy by doing so. There was very little privacy in their job. Their lives were interrupted constantly by that call that told them there was another sicko on the loose. It just felt wrong to stumble into the last of Morgan's.

He wasn't given the chance to act on his feelings and go somewhere else. Before he could even open the door again, Morgan called out, "Ready or not!"

Feeling the most peculiar thrill of excitement, fear, and amusement, a combination he wasn't used to, Reid quickly abandoned his post by the door. As quietly as he could manage, he crept to duck behind the unmade bed. Leaning forward to peek around the end of the bed, he had a perfect view of the door so he would just have to do is be patient until Morgan searched this room.

So, he waited...and waited...and waited...and waited.

Impatiently, his lips parted to call out. Quickly closing his mouth, he realized that he would rather try to not be caught.

Sneakily, he crept back to the door and peered through the crack. All he saw was empty all and vacant doorways. Rising up, he opened the door and went to step out. He felt the soft tap of a foam dark on his chest before he could even put his foot down. As he backpedaled into the room, he heard Morgan's dark, rich laughter.

"If you are going to outwait an unsub, you have to be prepared to actually wait, my man," Morgan called, his tone still dancing with mirth.

There was the sound of movement in the hall, fading as it grew farther away. Figuring that Morgan was giving him the chance to find a new space, a different angle, Reid quickly exited in the room. Impulsively, he turned and slipped back in as silently as possible. If he got lucky, Morgan would get confused and do a sweep of the room.

This time he was determined to get Morgan as he crouched behind the bed and waited. Unfortunately, he soon discovered that though his pose would help him to rise up quickly, but put too much pressure on his ankles. It wasn't too bad, but quickly became a nagging annoyance that distracted him.

Shifting back for half a second, he changed the way he was crouching and returned to his watch post.

The fake gun was aimed about chest level at the door, and he practically help his breath as he strained to catch any sound of movement outside of the room. As he waited, not even a sigh of when was heard.

Nearly fed up once again, his heart nearly stopped in his chest as the bed suddenly creaked loudly.

He was unsurprised to see Morgan lying there, his own gun remaining trained on Reid as he leapt to his feet. There was an arrogant smile on his face as his eyes danced with laughter.

Feeling more spiteful than he was concerned about being mature, Reid pulled the trigger. His eyes widened in shock when it actually hit Morgan's shoulder, which caused the other to start laughing. Chuckling as well, Reid considered firing another, since it was the most likely chance he had of getting another hit, but quickly decided against it.

Offering the two bullets to Reid, Morgan continued to grin as he asked, "Feel like you're getting better?"

"Honestly?" Reid asked with faux seriousness. Laughing, he shook his head and answered, "No! I think I am actually getting worse."

Morgan started laughing again and rolled his eyes, which Reid noticed with a bit more interest than he would have had it been someone else. Giving no warning, he shot Reid then leapt up and darted from the room.

For a moment, Reid stood beside the bed, not really thinking, and then he began to chase after Morgan. Strategy had failed, so he opted for running and gunning, and he would hope that at least some of the shots hit.

Most didn't.

Some of them did, but most didn't.

Out of all of the darts he fired, only two of them left a mark on anything but the walls and furniture. All of the others flew off path and rolled out of sight.

Then Morgan began to return fire.

With a much higher success rate, he quickly shot Reid, pursuing the other back down the hall and through the various rooms. When he finally managed to dodge one of the bullets, the young genius actual paused to congratulate himself on the conquest, which left him open for Morgan's final shot.

It went from mock serious training to a game in less than one round, and they were both laughing before they were down to their last darts. When the guns were empty, they gathered the darts once more, and even Reid was eager as they reapplied the chalk.

As they did so, Morgan jokingly pretended to total the scores. Even with a hundred point bonus for the ear shot, Reid still lost.

After getting rid of the traces of chalk on their clothes as best they could, another round started, and then another. Eventually, Reid was managing to hit Morgan more and more often. Whether it was because Reid's sincere attempts where making Morgan laugh too hard to dodge or because he was actually improving was up for debate.

By the time they finally stopped, Reid's spirits were too high for him to care either way.

"So," Morgan began as the two of them settled at his kitchen table with bottles of water, "should we practice again tomorrow."

"Practice" had taken them a few hours, and while neither seemed to want to start, they had had to clean up. With all of the toys put away and the last of the chalk erased, they were unwinding and ending the day.

In his haste to reply, Reid caused himself to choke. Embarrassed, he coughed weakly as he nodded quickly. As soon as he could speak, he answered, "Ye-yeah! We should-should definitely do that i-if you want to. I mean-unless a case or something comes up or-"

"Here is to hoping not cases come in," Morgan cut across with a laugh before the other could fluster himself with rambling.

Even though he felt his heart twist awkwardly at the laugh, Reid still held out his bottle to tap in mock toast.

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><p>AN: So, anyone get cavities from the fluff?

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